


A Close Shave

by HookedonCS



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 20:18:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3147260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HookedonCS/pseuds/HookedonCS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt: linctavia - helping him shave while he's recovering, and still restrained</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Close Shave

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo…. I really really loved this prompt. Although, unfortunately,we don’t see the actual act of shaving. Still, I hope you like it!

He was a Grounder. Octavia knew that. But even with what her people would consider animalistic and barbaric rituals and ways of life that came with it, she had never seen him look like… like this. She wondered if maybe, just maybe…

Lincoln. He looked restless even in his sleep. Was it because of what those people had done to him? They had tried to turn him into a monster. A beast that was unrecognizable to anyone- even himself.

Octavia could change that. She could make it at least a little better.

Her eyes darted across his face, seeing the minute differences. The bruises were normal. She was used to seeing him bear the scars of hard-fought battles. Wounds that were tangible evidence of the type of warrior he was. They were as much a part of him as his convictions and morals were a part of him. But there was something that was off in his appearance. Something that wasn’t just quite right.

That beard was now thick, overgrown, and bushy. She wouldn’t have thought that grooming was up high on his list of things to maintain. But this was uncharacteristically not Lincoln.

Octavia’s fingers slid across the hair-roughened cheek. Coarse. He was still there though, which lifted her spirits as she watched him. She had never shaven a man.

An instant thought of what it would have been like, being raised “normally.” If she had been a part of a “normal” family, then maybe watching her father shave in front of the bathroom mirror while her tiny pink hands grabbed greedily at the newly reachable sink would have been a part of that life. But that wasn’t the case.

Lincoln still felt like that animal that those people had made him into. He offered himself up to restraints because of fear of what could happen otherwise. But maybe this could help- help him see him for the man she always knew he was. He was Lincoln. He was a Grounder warrior who put right above his own safety. He was Lincoln. And he would always be Lincoln.

Octavia gripped the razor in her hand at her side while that other hand reached his cheek. The feather light touch to his cheek became a firm caress, her skin there being tickled by the bristly hairs there.

“Lincoln.”

His eyes opened automatically, finding hers immediately.

Confined to that bed because that is what he thought he deserved. But Octavia saw something more in his eyes. She saw the familiarity of the man that she had not only grown to know so intimately, but had grown to love so much.

“Octavia?” Her name was a question on his lips. A bit of wariness crossed over his face as he frowned deeply. “What are you doing?” His gaze switched from solely on her face to the razor she held in that other hand.

Octavia followed his eyes as she straightened away from him. She offered up a small smile and turned it on him.

“I’m going to give you a shave,” she answered him. It was firm and with conviction, just as her stance was.

Lincoln’s gaze slid slowly back to her.

“Why?”

A simple enough question…

“It’ll make you feel better,” she whispered. She couldn’t help but take him all in. She wanted him to see himself with the truth. This could help. “It can only help. To get back to normal.”

There was a bit of skepticism as he looked from her to the razor.

“What does hair have to do with anything? It doesn’t change any facts.”

Octavia shook her head. “No, that’s just what you think. I can show you.” 

She saw the tension in his arms as he began to pull against the restraints.

Why was he beginning to fight?

“I can remove them.” She moved closer, hand outstretched for him. “No,” Lincoln groaned. He pulled tight, straining at the ties. “This… this is what I deserve, Octavia.” He looked at her then. “After everything I’ve done.”

“You didn’t do it.” There was bitterness that laced her words. The razor twirled slowly about in her hand. “They did it to you.”

“And there’s a difference?”

Octavia finally looked back at him.

“There’s a big difference.” Looking at him, seeing the mixture of emotions that crossed over his entire body, she moved even closer.

“You know that, Lincoln,” she whispered, willing for him to agree.

Those eyes lowered. And maybe there was a hint on concession there.

“Octavia, I… remember what I did.”

“And that changes nothing, she told him, desperately needing for him to see that.

There was a pause, where her desperate eyes met his worried eyes.

“Let me do this for you… Lincoln.” It was fierce, yet still had a trace of vulnerability to it

His answer came in the form of a barely there nod. A simple and short bob of his head downward as his eyes stayed on her.

She kept her sheer relief hidden, giving only a small smile as acknowledgement.

There was another strain against the straps, pulling himself in as compactly as possible.

It made her pause. “What?”

Lincoln eyes fell over her, watching her closely.

“Have you ever done this before?”

The reason for that look had stilled her.

Blinking her eyes at him, she answered, “No, I haven’t.” The weight of the razor became apparent once again.

It was something about that look that they shared. It told her everything that she needed to know. How Lincoln felt about her, what she meant to him, and the fact that he knew that he wasn’t some monster.

“I trust you, Octavia.” 

And sometimes confirmation could mean more than one could ever realize.

Octavia reached out once more, touching the bristly cheek. She looked at each individual scrape that blossomed on his healing face. And she saw him.

“I trust you, too, Lincoln.”

Because it was the truth. Because it was an important acknowledgement.

“I can… remove… the constraints.” And she looked deep into his eyes, hoping that this time he would believe in not only her, but in him as well. “It’ll make this a lot easier.”

What was he thinking as their eyes connected?

Octavia was stirred with memories of another time that all she wanted was his trust. For him to let her help mend what she had broken. And, with caution for her own well-being, he had done just that.

After that long stare that they both held, Lincoln’s eyes closed, breaking that contact.

“Not just yet, Octavia,” he breathed. 

And because she knew him, because she knew who he was, she understood. She didn’t push.

“Okay,” she whispered softly. “Are you ready?” She felt the itch of her palm. Felt the slip of the razor just a little bit because of the new dampness now found in her palm.

Lincoln’s eyes opened again, finding hers.

“I’m ready.”

Her smile was tremulous for the man in front of her. She had never felt anything like this before. If it meant someone else, sometime else, or somewhere else, then she was happy for this to be all brand-new. Because it felt too special, with him, for it to anything but this.

Octavia’s fingers found that beard again. She couldn’t place it- didn’t know what it was. But something had suddenly feeling somewhat different.

He leaned into the caress, his lips finding her fingertips.

Her shudder was barely noticeable on the outside. Internally, it was amazing.

Octavia smiled.

“Good.”


End file.
